


Day 4: Shopping for and/or Wrapping Gifts

by linasane



Series: Christmas/Holiday/Winter OTP Challenge [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - Human, Homophobia, Kid!Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2883122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linasane/pseuds/linasane





	Day 4: Shopping for and/or Wrapping Gifts

Dean stands in front of shelves upon shelves of baby toys feeling…overwhelmed.  Seriously, half of this stuff would be too much mental stimulation for  _him_ , let alone his baby girl.  He wants to give her something fun, not something that will melt her little brain.  And why the hell is all this shit so freaking expensive?

He’s examining an “interactive” baby walker and trying to figure out how he would even assemble the damn thing when Cas comes around the corner with the biggest armload full of stuffed animals Dean has ever seen.

“Dude,” he says, moving to catch a falling teddy bear, “I thought you were going to pick out  _one_.”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Cas admits from beneath a mound of fur and fluff.  He dumps the toys into their shopping cart, smiling sheepishly at Dean when they fill it all the way to the top.

Dean gets it, he does.  He wants Beth to have everything in the world.  But he also wants to be able to afford food this month.

“How about we pick out a few?” he suggests.

Eyeing the massive pile of animals, Castiel agrees.

* * *

In the end, Cas picks out a ridiculously fluffy bumble-bee and an ugly-sweater clad teddy bear.  Dean chooses a moose because “dude, tell me it doesn’t remind you of Sammy…it even has the floppy hair!”

He’s loading the rest of the stuffed animals into Cas’s arms to put back when one of them falls to the floor.

“What in the world  _is_  this?” he asks when he picks it up.  It’s not even a stuffed animal, it’s a puppet.  A ridiculous cow puppet with a shoddily sewn on Santa hat that plays the notes of “Old Macdonald Had a Farm” when its mouth shuts.  For whatever reason, Dean finds it hilarious.

“We’re keeping it,” he decides, tossing it into the cart before piling one last teddy bear onto the pile in Cas’s arms.  “Alright,” he says, giving the other man a gentle shove, “off to the land of misfit toys you go.”

“I knew you were watching that Christmas special!” Cas says triumphantly, heading back to the stuffed animal section with a grin.

Dean just rolls his eyes.

* * *

Dean ends up wandering over to the hot wheels section while Cas is gone, looking at all the toy cars and eventually tossing a few into the cart.  He can’t wait to play with them with Beth (whenever she’s old enough to not try and eat them, of course).

He’s so caught up in all the cars that he doesn’t notice a grandmotherly woman shuffling up next to him.

“How old is your son?” she asks (and he totally doesn’t jump…not at all).

He smiles at her, jumping on the opportunity to talk about Beth.  “My daughter, actually,” he corrects, “and she’s just over six months now.”

Dean’s smile disappears when the woman’s face goes from curious to horrified.  “You’re buying  _cars_  for your  _daughter_?” she huffs.

“Well, yeah,” Dean says, crossing his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Well you know what happens when you let girls play with such masculine toys, don’t you?  It does funny things to their heads,” she says, leaning in to whisper, “I mean, you don’t want her growing up to be a… _lesbian_ , do you?”

For a moment, Dean honestly thinks he’s about to punch an old lady, but then Castiel is storming up to her before he even gets the chance.

“Disregarding the fact that the idea of gendered toys is ignorant and idiotic, whoever our child grows up to be is  _none. of. your. business_ ,” he practically growls, inching closer to the woman with every word.  And holy shit, Dean has never seen his husband this mad.  “I can only hope,” Cas continues, “that you’re here buying toys for some very distant relation, because the idea of any child being raised in a household with your ideals is just…just…” he’s sputtering now, red in the face and panting, and Dean decides it’s time to step in.

“Whoa, Cas,” he says, grabbing his shoulders and gently tugging the other man backwards, “calm down, babe.”

Cas whirls on him then, anger clear in his eyes.  “But, Dean, she-”

“I know, dude, I know.  But she,” Dean says, shooting the woman such a harsh glare that she physically recoils, “is  _not_  worth our time.”

Castiel seems to relax just a little bit at that, and Dean manages to drag both him and their cart around the nearest corner.

“Come on, man,” he says, gripping the other man’s shoulders yet again, “take a breath for me.  Just breathe for a sec.”

“Dean, the things she was saying-”

“Were  _wrong_ , Cas,” Dean stresses, catching his husband’s eyes, “You know that, I know that, and we’re gonna make  _damn_  sure Beth knows that, alright?”

Castiel’s gaze drifts from the sincerity in Dean’s eyes to their shopping cart, filled with everything from princess costumes to hot wheels and, despite his fading anger, can’t help but smile.

Dean mirrors his grin.  “There you go,” he says, “There’s that holiday spirit back.  We’re gonna need that, alright?  I mean, we can’t both be Grinches.”

“You’re not a Grinch, Dean,” Cas says firmly. “The Grinch’s heart was two sizes too small, and yours is…indescribably huge.”

Dean looks like he’s about to protest or, knowing him, make some sort of inappropriate joke and ruin the moment, so Cas just grabs his face and kisses him – right in the middle of Toy’R’Us.

“I love you, Dean,” he says when he pulls back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean protests, though a fond smile creeps onto his face, “love you too, babe.”

Chick flick moment over, the pair head off to finish filling up their shopping cart with presents for one very special, very loved little girl.


End file.
